(Balmung) - FFXIV ------------------------------------ Shared character blogs for Nobushige Matsugen and Honozuka Kajiwara; currently only used for story-telling purposes and image-sharing. Not accepting rp requests.
That gentler times are considered
The time when you were in the most pain
Ailing for reprieve only he could give you
Such sweetness preserves all else
Unable to move on
Had he made it to a chirurgeon last night..? Unable to remember much of the night previous, Ietasu laid with his thoughts for a time. The pain was still there—but rather than feeling the cold stone beneath him, he felt a soft mattress and a cushion under his head. As he slowly began to regain his senses, he realized he was somewhere with children. He heard the sounds of young voices bantering amongst themselves…and the voice of a woman hushing them as light gradually poured in through his opening eyelids. And then, he felt pressure being applied to the bed in which he assumedly laid. Little hands pressing down as they watched him awaken.
“…Shh, he’s waking up!” He heard the feminine voice whisper overhead. The first thing he saw when he awoke were her blue eyes—and the faces of two young boys looking at him in awe.
“Woah…they’re all black!” One of the boys gossiped to the other who nodded his head in innocent wonder. The three of them each with a head of ginger. “Cool…”
The blue-eyed woman then made to bat her hand at the two boys at their comments. “Now, now, you’re in the way. Let’s let him adjust first, okay?” As if their interest suddenly faded, they quickly hopped off of the bed in a hurry and went back to playing games like nothing had changed. How long had he been here? Long enough that the children weren’t too bothered with him to insist they stay and start to whine.
“How are you feeling?” She asked him quietly, her long hair touching his bandaged chest. From the looks of it, she wasn’t old enough to be the boys’ mother. At his silence, she continued to talk at him as though his reaction wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. “You must be surprised. I bet you thought you’d be in a clinic or somewhere like that. And actually, you should’ve been waking up there instead of here. But…” Her eyes darted towards his horns and down to his stomach—unsure where exactly she should be looking. “Not everyone is so accepting of things, or people, rather…that they don’t understand quite yet. And I thought, since I’m a healer in training, I could look after you until we figured out what to do with you. I hope you don’t mind.” She gave him a friendly smile at that. And when still he did not respond to her, she kept talking at him. “I made soup earlier. How about we try feeding you something first?”
Watching her as she stood up and made her way to the kitchen, he allowed himself a moment to process his thoughts. Although she said she had been a student, he had no way of knowing just how well his wound had been stitched back up. If it was clumsy, he’d tear it easily and then he’d be no better than when she found him. Or, had it only been the day after Xah attacked him, the wound would be too fresh to move around much. Situationally, his best course of action was to wait it out. Even though he wanted to do nothing else besides return to the boy’s side.
When she returned, she set down a bowl of cold soup on the stand nearby and began setting up more pillows behind his head in order to prop him upright. “There’s some vegetables in the broth…do you think you can chew?” Sitting down beside him on the bed and reaching for the bowl to bring into her lap, she waited for a sign from him. Anything to let her know that it was okay. And Ietasu relented a small gesture to her knowing he needed the food. Parting his lips somewhat, he eyed the spoon she held. “I’ll take that as a yes!”
With each bite, he felt himself getting a little bit stronger. Not that it was particularly tasty or anything, but he had felt famished beforehand. And when at last he had finished, he finally made to speak. “How…long have I been here?” He noticed it while he was eating, but the room itself had been lit up with interior lights—there was no natural light coming in from anywhere. It had to be night right now.
Her smile grew with hearing his question, surely feeling accomplished that she had done her part in nursing him back to health. “A few days. The knife missed your vitals, thankfully…but you had lost a lot of blood before we found you.” Setting the emptied bowl back onto the stand, she suddenly widened her eyes as one of the boys from earlier came crashing into her legs. She managed to keep herself balanced well enough however so that she didn’t upset Ietasu while he rested. “Eric?” The child himself was barely the height of the bed. He had heard him coming, but he could only see the ginger top of his hair as he clung to the woman’s legs.
“Sis, Jacob won’t give me back Mr. Rumps!” Distraught enough that he had been brought to tears, the woman lifted herself from his bedside and made to bend over and hug her brother close.
“Is that so? Well, then let’s go talk to him, alright?” Looking at her patient in bed, she smiled and nodded her head. “I trust you’ll be okay on your own for a while? It’s almost their bedtime.” Giving her a soft tilt of his head, he silently let her know that she could take her time. And when they left his room, Ietasu began to feel out his body. Trying to move his arms around, he found them to be unusually sluggish. The same with his legs. Whilst he was no longer too worried about his injury, the erosion his muscles had faced during his short coma would prove the real challenge. He had to get back onto his feet soon, or it would be difficult to regain his strength in time to save Xah. Who knows what the cruel lord had in plan for him…or what had already transpired during his inactivity?
Taking this time to work out the ligaments in his arms first, he stretched them back and forth until they became worn out. And when his door opened again, he expected to see the woman from earlier return. But instead, it was someone else entirely. An older woman with short blond hair. “I had heard you were awake. Eager to get back to it?” She spoke upon seeing his stretches. “I don’t know what you did to get yourself stabbed, but I hope you won’t bring us any trouble in keeping you here.” Judging her then to be the head of the house, he nodded towards her. “Good. The sooner you leave here, the better.”
He too was of the same mind as her. It was not wise to house a stranger, even with good intentions. They had found him bleeding out in a dark alleyway, after all. They did not know what skeletons he kept in his closet, or if he had any enemies out patrolling for him. That, and he too wanted to leave here as soon as possible.
“Mother, please don’t say such things to our guest.” Ah, the voice of the younger girl. So she had finished putting her brothers to bed…
“Ellabell…you should be getting yourself to bed as well. Don’t stay up much longer with him, understand?”
“Yes, mother…”
Watching them part ways, Ellabell returned to his side upon closing the door. “I hope she didn’t offend you or anything. She just has our best interests at heart. And…even though she says she wants you gone, she was the one who suggested we bring you here. So…”
Her mother seemed to be smart on both accounts then, even if her daughter only praised her on one. In any event, if she was to head to bed soon, he did not want to be left without activity. Though he knew he would soon want to turn in as well, he did not want to wake his precious waking hours from here on out. “You…are training to be amongst the chirurgeon’s are you not? Do you have any crutches that I might use?” She seemed only slightly distressed by his question. It did, after all, mean that he had plans to leave here. But even she had to know that he wouldn’t be here forever. And denying him means to get back on his legs would be a death sentence. As a student of medicine, she surely knew that. And because he brought up her training, she couldn’t deny that she hadn’t a pair laying around.
“Y-yes…” She nodded quietly, leaving to fetch them. “I’ll be back with them shortly.”
And when she returned with a set of wooden crutches, she left them leaning against his bedside. “I still think it’s too soon for you to begin moving around too much, however. Try to take it slow, alright? I want to see your progress in the morning.” He knew he would be here for some time yet. She didn’t need to worry about him leaving in the middle of the night. He was no fool.
“I will manage enough on my own. You should get some sleep.” He assured her as he tried to bring his body around and over the bed. It wasn’t easy, but he fared well enough on his own.
Perhaps it was her lingering uncertainty which kept her from leaving right away. The girl motionlessly twiddling her thumbs as she watched him hang his legs over the bed and reach for his crutches. “Wait,” She then whispered as she took a step forward. “Just one more thing…” Standing before him now, she leaned down and brushed the hair off of his face—bringing her head low so that she could kiss his forehead. “There.” She giggled quietly as she pulled away and turned around. “It’s a little sad going to bed alone, so…when you do, I hope that helps you sleep a little better. My mom used to do that for me when she worked late nights and couldn’t come home until morning. Well...goodnight.”
And with that, she was gone. Likely too embarrassed to take another peek back at him as she closed the door behind herself. As he didn’t understand the gesture, he sighed and shook his head. Such a thing wouldn’t provide him any comfort. Nor would it make bringing Xah back safe and sound any easier. But, as he pulled the crutches closer to himself, he felt an odd softness rising from his chest that made it seem like he was floating on a cloud. Rather than feel burdened by his duty, he felt like…at least for now…there was nothing to worry about. Whilst he knew that wasn’t at all true, he felt that way. Just for a second. In pulling himself onto his feet, he winced in crippling pain. Step by step, he’d fight to regain his mobility. Step by step…until he was strong enough to rescue Xah.
Character: Shinza Chousokabe ♦ Region: Doma ♦ Time: 8 Years Ago
Hosted by: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast
Though my pen struck paper—though the idea was fresh in my heart…my mind could not conjure the words forth. Like an apple which appeared bright and red on the outside, my face was yet mine own. However glistening my outward form was on the contrary, my innards were browning and filled with worms. The stories I wished to convey with my ink, with the only voice left to me…were now blotched in an array of colours I could not make sense of.
When my faithful right attempted to speak to me, I found myself confounded when her lips moved and I heard no sound. It wasn’t that I had gone deaf. Rather, my mind was unable to process the noise. Through the vast array of shapes which grew within it relentlessly—blurring my conscious self with raw instinct—I was losing myself. If this continued, naught would remain of the man I had been.
It mattered none how potent my will. My body was never meant to house the spirit of an entity beyond mortal comprehension. Soon, ‘She’ would overtake me completely until I am but a hollow sack of skin and bones. Then she would find another host to house her until they too broke. I would not wish this blight on anyone else. None save myself…
Yet the cost of extending my sanity and my frail flesh was too great a cost.
Greater than damning another soul this burden?
As I was now, I laboured over the question which would’ve taken me moments to answer. Not for laments sake, mind. I simply could not find the space in my head to allow the thought to take root and flourish. It was utterly maddening.
The swirls of shape and sound mixing to create infinite colour that invaded my brain like a plague. I would be erased. My self nothing more than a memory to those who knew the person this meat suit once belonged to. How much longer did I have?
I could not make sense of anything. Thus, when the time came to make my decision…I did not hesitate to do what needed to be done. Mindlessly, with no care or appreciation for the sacrifice it costed. For the person I lost in the process. The person whom I loved.
Character: Nobushige Matsugen ♦ Region: Ilsabard ♦ Time: 2 Years Ago
Hosted by: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast
The room itself appeared cold. The walls a dark metal, and the windows naught but the same frosty blue as the night outside. However, the warmth came from how richly the hall was decorated. Red carpets streaming gold frills—numerous chandeliers hanging down from above with bronze frames and hundreds of long candles furnishing their entirety. The noise. Classical music played live whilst numerous guests discussed amongst themselves in their best gowns and suits—whatever they had that was both exuberant and colourful. The bleakness of the manor was easily lit up when everything came together.
As well as my suit which had been tailored for the occasion in advance…I’d never worn anything like it before. No matter how unusual the circumstances, I retained myself and kept calm—my dignity ever at my side. I resolved to only have one drink out of respect for the host, yet I knew my tolerance was nearly non-existent. I drank the foul beverage slowly.
For the vast majority of the night, I met and mingled—more-so listened—to those whom Justus had relations with. Otherwise, I observed. Adjusting myself accordingly based on what I watched others doing—how they talked. Yet the politics of it wouldn’t pass me by regardless of how I behaved. Raen were an unusual sight; especially when they stood at the side of one of their top generals. The specifics of our affair kept a secret for the time being.
Soon after Justus was pulled away to discuss more private matters with the head of the house, I was greeted by someone I had suspected to be watching us from afar. Or more specifically, me personally.
“Forgive me if this sounds rude, or otherwise blunt, however you remind me of a woman I once knew.”
Though I had committed to only one drink, he offered me another. One that smelled of mint. In courtesy, I accepted.
“Not to imply you appear feminine per say, more that…” He paused for a moment, considering his next words. “I almost would think you were related, had I known no better.” The man seemed middle aged—his skin beginning to show minute spots and wrinkle lines. He made himself present handsomely however with his light stubble and groomed back hair; his suit shimmering with the wealth he meant to flaunt. He came here not out of sheer intrigue, rather for some sort of personal gain.
At least, that was what I initially suspected until he caught me off guard with what he said in passing. “Sayuri…yes, that’s her name.” He mused then, quietly gauging my reaction. When he saw what he wanted, he smiled.
“Then you are correct, Sayuri is my mother.” I confessed calmly. Though keeping secrets was meant for the aristocrats, I was not among them. Besides my father’s betrayal of our country Doma, I knew naught what harm this small admittance would cause. That, and a part of me wished to learn more of the person I never met. But whom he spoke of going forwards was not of her, rather mine father.
“That you share your father’s ideals, I admire. Tell me, are you her first born?”
“Her second, and last.” Taking a sip of the cold drink he had given me before our conversation began in earnest, I prayed Justus would return before I came to regret it.
With a pleased scoff, the man nodded and took a sip of his own beverage. “So you were a boy after all.” For a moment he appeared to be pondering something unknown before saying something I could not immediately decipher. “Nothing that cannot be remedied.” Quickly, he corrected himself. “No, perhaps I should introduce myself first. Marik het Lucullus.” With a proud bow, he continued to right his err. “Your father, Takenaka Matsugen entrusted you to me under the guise you would be born a woman. Though I failed to take you in after you were born, I submitted a certificate even so claiming you as mine own. I had thought you died with your mother, yet here you are.”
In a suave sidestep, Marik moved behind me in a forward motion, directing me to follow alongside him whilst we spoke. “Though I’ve yet to understand why you are here in any event…should you take my name it will grant you freedoms in this land you would not have otherwise.” He was quiet enough to not alert the other guests of our private matters, yet in a place like this, he would’ve been wiser to wait until we were away from the crowd.
No, he was wise in presenting it here. It meant I was in no place to object. “Will you accept your namesake as my son?” Extending out his hand to me now that we were in the center of the soft-spoken rumormongers, I parted my lips in questioning response. I knew naught what to say. Those who surrounded us who once uttered distasteful gossip now began to hum in contented relief. That alone said much about the man before me. Who was the man my father intended to raise me? Who was my father, for that matter…? Nozaki would not speak of him when we were children.
He wanted me to say yes. For now however, I would merely take his hand and prompt we continue this at a later date. “I would like to speak with you at further length about this. There is another whom we should make privy the details.”
“Quite so…” He shook his head, pulling away instead of lingering impolitely. “Expect an invitation soon, and we shall go into more depth then.” Raising his glass to mine, he encouraged us to click them together in good will. “It’s been a pleasure.”
This was my first time doing it for him—usually Takemori handled it in the morning, but he wasn’t here today and Nobushige didn’t know how to himself yet. We only had a black hair tie. Ribbon, rather. From some old lady’s sewing kit probably. So, when I tried to do it up for him, it looked wrong. Backwards. Or I’d tie it too tightly that trying to fix my mistake came at the cost of my patience and my nails when I struggled to undo it.
And when I finally found something that worked, the end result was more a standoffish bow than a proper tie. Kinda like what the backs of little girls dresses looked like. Sure it was cute, but it wasn’t exactly manly. Undoing it and starting over though seemed too much of a hassle at this point. I’d just have Takemori show me when he got back.
“I think that’ll do,” I tried to say through my reluctance. And when I did, Nobushige turned around to face me—the two of us sitting on the ground—and sat in my lap with a smile on his face. His bright blue eyes somehow even cuter than before.
“Thank you, big brother!”
As per the standard habit of after I finished combing his hair, we held each other close—that special time continuing until the moment I either had to leave, or it was time for bed. He was still too small to reach my shoulders so when he burrowed his head in my chest, I could see the back of his long hair again and the ribbon I tied up like a girly bow. From this perspective I started to understand the appeal. It made him look even younger than he was. Sure he was only seven now, but…maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to do his hair like this more often. At least for now.
My little brother was the purest thing left on this broken star—the only thing left worth smiling for. With a light chuckling which resounded from my warm heart, I hugged him unapologetically tight as I couldn’t afford a life without him. He belonged to me. He was my responsibility to protect always.
His voice, his touch, his smile…the whole of him. He never allowed me to forget that important fact. The world beyond our tiny shelter which was so frightening and rife with evil, I would never let it come near him. He didn't need freedom or anything of the sort. All he needed was me.
It was that simple.
--
When did it become so complicated?
My thoughts a tangled mess as I shivered in fear. And yet, the moment he came to me, I realized that all I needed was him. Our years apart—everything that I gained from others…it meant nothing now. The world which had so much more to offer, hope, future, all, I would deny it only so that I could be with him.
“Big brother…”
I sat against the edge of the mattress on the floor, and like a featherweight doll, he lowered himself onto my lap with a smile—our horns brushing together in a sweetly nostalgic way. I could never forget how much he meant to me.
As I suffered in the burdening truth of our new reality, he was the one who sought to protect me from falling apart completely. I belonged to him. My body quaking as I pulled him in close so as not to lose him again.
His hair, which had been done up…falling out of its loose tie like streaks of brown gold around me. He was beautiful. I no longer felt afraid, however, the thought that now claimed its place made me reach up to fix his hair again. My hand knitting close his thin hair so that I could refasten it in the white hair tie that had just sunk to the ground. But the moment I saw the tie with my eyes, I froze. My mind finally registering what I had so innocently resolved to do. The ribbon I now held was soaked in red. And the hand which I had thought to be grasping hair was instead tightening around his neck.
He didn’t fight it. He just continued to smile.
I had failed him. The cruel world had laid its claim on my precious little brother. And I didn’t know what else to do to save him. But I couldn’t go through with it either. I pulled away, and let his head fall onto my shoulder like it did when we were young.
We weren’t right anymore. Nothing about this was.
Nothing about how happy I was—how sweet he looked in his white robes made from angel silks—nor the stench of death which perversely drifted through the air between us. It was all so very wrong.
Like a used rag, she had been discarded as if nothing more than trash. Her body empty, but yet writhing with what energy left to her. She thought she might’ve floated, but instead she sunk down to the bottom of the lake she’d been tossed in. Her shell-like hands grasping at the sand mindlessly as she watched the sun streak through her darkening vision. The water around her like cold weights pressing into her flesh—pushing into her stomach deep until it connected with the soil beneath her.
Nothing, nothing, nothing. She was stripped bare and rendered hollow—the richest part of her essence plucked from her form. All that remained, her skin, hardened like rock…and her anger. With red eyes, she sucked in the bitter taste of salt water into her empty husk.
Cast aside and left for dead, she rose once again. They should’ve finished her off. Fools for leaving the job half finished. Fools all.
Focused entirely on her new creed, she did not see that which bloomed next to her in the waters. Life—beautiful flowers growing from the coral. Though normally impossible, their colours grew until they blinded her of the sunlight which yet poured down from above. Vibrant colours—now turning black in the depths of the underwater abyss. The husk she was purposed to become filled too with violent rage.
Nothing, nothing—nothing like her. The memory of her precious family ages dead…finally beginning to fade from sight. The smile of her daughter. Their brief moment of happiness together. It was wasting away into oblivion.
What refused to leave her however, that horrible night she lost her family to the madness of the villagers who thought her a danger. Though years and years past—counting several millennia back—that night ever remained a clear image in her head. The only image she could retain from her old self.
Revenge. That which she should’ve taken long ago. From the blooming red waters she would find herself half a thing, whole in her tenacity. Driven onwards by that one desperate plea, she would not cease until she purged the world of all evil.
In the dead of night, death lurked these halls. Souls which should have been taken by the lifestream instead lingered here and roamed in transient freedom. It was not often his responsibility to tend to their needs, as they merely wished for frivolous things that needn’t his attention. Yet on certain nights, much like this one…he forfeited sleep so that he might secure the perimeter. To ensure that the most dangerous of these waking spirits were sufficiently sealed and could not escape.
And once he was finished checking each room, he made his way back upstairs and into the darkness of the manor with only a held candlewick to light his way. Yet even despite knowing these walls well, he had to keep his wits about him at all times. To listen carefully with all his senses for any trace of movement. Ever since that night…these corridors became even more lethal to traverse after sunset. His lord’s most precious pet was oft found wandering these parts of the estate. A slithering serpent of tremendous size…now uninhibited through death, its hunger could no longer be tempered through monthly feedings. She was always ready to feast.
René had no intention to remain out and about longer than need be. He would retire to his room until morning.
However, it would seem the fates had another plan in store for tonight. As he walked through the long halls, he came across an open window. He had first noticed something was amiss when he felt the temperature drop suddenly. Then he saw one of the dark hanging curtains billowing inwards—letting inside the quiet snowstorm…and an unkindly fellow as well, by the looks of it. There were wet stains on the carpet unlike the melting’s of the occasional trickle of snowy debris. They were more like the size of thick footprints.
Intruders were less common since the ongoing construction of the Firmament, yet…he had to question the stranger’s purpose for being here. Was it simply to find shelter for the night, or had they come in hopes of leaving with treasure? Or…
The direction the trail of footprints seemed to be heading led him to believe otherwise.
Kneeling down to get a better look at the wet stains, he noticed something else off. There was a faint stumble to them as well. Not unlike someone who was riddled with booze or other inebriating drugs. Yet…if that was truly the case, then he likely would’ve found their body out in the yard come morning as they like would’ve slipped on ice the way up. This wasn’t mere intoxication. Or rather, it was…but of an uncommon sort.
Deciding to continue down the path which led to the guest rooms, he kept a hand on the wall as he slowly followed the now drying trail. He was listening for any sign of vibration or loud stumble—aught at all that would give him indication of how close he was to finding this wayward intruder. And yet he heard nothing. Not the smallest of sounds save for his own footsteps.
That was, until he stood near the door of the only inhabited guest room. However, the sounds were far too obscure to make out simply from listening. It sounded almost as if…someone was mixing around a pot of liquid gelatin.
It would…be unbecoming of him to simply turn around and leave. Not when he knew someone had stolen about the property and was now inside the bedchambers of one of his lord’s guests. Even…if it caused his heart to quake in raw trepidation. He had never been able to forget that night. Not truly. No matter how desperately he wished it sealed within the deepest confines of his breast, he could never forget what he had done.
Knocking the wood frame next to the slightly ajar door, he voiced in a quiet tone: “Forgive my intrusion…” Then, he pushed the door open enough for him to step through. The room was pitch black save for the immediate area he encompassed as it was brightened by candlelight. It was hardly enough to see too deeply into the room, yet he sensed a presence nearby. Laying on the floor…where the strange sound he heard was coming from.
With each step, he felt his chest blacken with grime. This was wrong—the energy of this room felt grave and it weighed down on him with each passing breath. With each step forward, he felt as if he was lowering himself into a dark pit…and at the bottom would lay a coffin intended for him. He could still turn back, before he reached the end. Yet instead of pulling away, he continued onwards. Extending out his arm which held the candlewick. Wanting to feel the wood enclosure of his would be tomb.
And what he saw lying in wait for him at the bottom of the hole was a man. The faint light which but barely revealed his face told René only a fraction of the story which had just taken place here. From Nobushige’s lips and down his throat…staining his pure white night robes…was a thick mess of blood. That sight alone should’ve had him questioning the reason as to why—yet his mind remained blank. He…instead, made to kneel down before him. His eyes calmly watching the dull, emptied eyes of the Raen. Blue, lusterless eyes which stared down into nothingness.
Nothingness that was in fact a fresh corpse of a man. His chest torn apart and bleeding out onto the floor. Their would-be intruder, as it seemed…
Nobushige knew that he was here, and yet…made no effort to respond. Which was…perhaps polite, given the circumstances. It allowed René a moment to process what he was to do next.
The man laying beneath them was well-built. They certainly weren’t disadvantaged—his musculature appeared at a glance well-built and trained. His clothing besides were richly tailored and unlike the tattered attire of those inhabiting the Brume. For what reason would he trespass another’s home? What reason indeed…
Bringing his eyes over to meet with Nobushige’s hand which laid on the man’s chest, he noticed an unusual abundance of red running down his arm. Setting down his held candlewick on the ground, he languorously reached out for the Raen’s hand. Caressing it tenderly in his gloved palms and lifting it slightly so that he might check for any injuries. “…Are you hurt?”
He felt as if his mind was lost in a false stupor he had yet to recover from. In his right mind, he would seek to rationalize the scene before him in quick pace. Yet at this point in time, he could not process the best course of action. He was unable to judge the man sitting before him in any capacity. Then he felt his heart soften. Nobushige’s eyes met with his and he smiled kindly…in a way that was neither twisted nor assuming. It told René all that he needed to know. That he was safe. Unharmed…and most of all, untarnished by this sinful act. That his soul was yet clean and not even a minuscule touch of dirt had sullied it.
That alone gladdened him. As for why, he could not say.
On his lips, that selfsame smile given to him by the Raen was mirrored. Death sat amongst them in this room, however he had never felt calmer than in this very moment. “Can you stand?” Nobushige responded with a simple shake of his head, no. “Very well…”
Taking the candlewick back in his hand, he made his way over to the nightstand next to the bed. Using the small flame alight atop the wax, he lit a triple set of candles to illuminate the room once darkened by heavy sludge. Setting his own light down on the table as well, he then returned to Nobushige’s side so he might help him off the ground. “With me, now.” Placing his arms underneath the Raen’s shoulders, he began to lift the slender man up onto his feet. Then, moving his hands over to his side, René helped walk Nobushige over to the bed before sitting him down on the plush blanket. During that brief moment of closeness, he came to understand that the blood on the Raen’s clothes had not come solely from the invasive pest laying dead on the floor. Which was perhaps why he could not stand on his own.
Now in the light, he could see it more clearly. The hole which had ripped through the Raen’s silks and drove deep into the space under his left shoulder. If not for the knife he now noticed resting on the bed behind the Raen’s back, he would’ve doubted the plausibility of such a wound. It was far too wide to have been made by such a meager tool, and yet…if Nobushige hadn’t considered the injury—or assault itself—painful…what would’ve stopped his assailant from abusing the cut further?
In any case, it needed immediate treatment. Calling for the chirurgeon would take too long, and he already knew this room had been supplied with a medical kit. He would have to handle it himself.
And in a matter of seconds, René would have the kit placed on the bed by his side as he rolled up his sleeves and made to sanitize his hands. Peeling away the thin layer of clothes which concealed the Raen’s shoulder, he then started prepping his tools. Blood loss had kept the man from standing up on his own earlier, not the agony of such a wound. He realized that as he cleaned the gash and sub-sequentially made to stitch the hole closed. Nobushige did not flinch, nor make the smallest sound of discomfort. No, they remained in silence for the entire procedure. It was only after he had finished and closed the kit back up did he think to speak. Even then…he couldn’t quite will himself to break this quiet scene.
Instead, he wished to confirm something. A vague theory which came to him as he patched up the unwavering Raen and fought against the dim light to keep his focus. Before proving it though, he first made to wipe away the blood from the other man’s face. With a clean handkerchief he kept in his pocket, he gently rubbed the grime gone until all that was left was the delicate expression of someone who stared at him in gratuity.
He should be scared. This was entirely out of line for someone of his rank. The anxiety that should’ve swelled in his heart somehow never came to be—his heart instead turned soft when he understood from the start that the reason he did not question the grotesque scene he interrupted with upset was because he knew he was at peace. In the passionless eyes of the serene Raen, he felt his doubts quelled and resolve mended from the very second he walked into the room and saw him there on the ground.
It wasn’t the familiarity of violence which tamed him—rather…the unusual thinking that it was somehow beautiful and not a vile display of cruelty. That divine grace possessed this man and refined elegance alike. This wasn’t a room contaminated by rot and filth, but instead one rich with decency. Thus the hesitance which should have gripped him did not come.
Bringing his hand to the Raen’s scaled cheek, he leaned into the man and quietly kissed him once before pulling away and letting his hand sink. He was right. He had already been forgiven. Or perhaps…he had done nothing to which the Raen would think to give blame. Nobushige’s heart was unlike his—unlike any he had ever met. It could take on any measure of sin and yet still resonate pure white light. As if it hadn’t been touched at all…
The lack of response from him proved it. Nobushige’s desires were not of this plane. He stood above all the pitiful souls which flooded this world with their dirt. And yet, like a god…he would accept their impurities even so and forgive them their baseness.
Comforted by this ideal…René set about to clean up his mess. With the medical supplies now stored away again, the butler refastened his gloves onto his hands and dropped to his knees before the corpse which now began to stink. “I will dispose of the body and return to clean the blood promptly.” He said, making to lift the putrid thing into his arms and carry it off.
Half expecting to leave in silence, René paused when he heard the harmonious whisper of the Raen call out to him. “No…I am expecting another shortly. Someone…important to me. I would bid a moment of privacy.” Another…at this hour? He didn’t know what to expect, but it would be impolite of him to inquire further.
“It shall be as you request. By your leave…”
Making away with the body, he pondered his options of disposal. Only one would be appropriate…however…he questioned another possibility out of selfish want. To feed the abhorrent remains of the man to the creature which lurked through these halls and be rid of him entirely…in foolish desire he might once again chance upon such a precious scene.
The moment such a thought crossed his mind however, he wavered. What was becoming of him? Such ways of thinking were untoward of him, and standing alone in the darkness of the manor’s halls made him want to brush off this doubt quickly and leave it for another day.
Character: Ivan Ivar ♦ Region: Ishgard ♦ Time: A Few Moons Ago
Hosted by: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast
My brother thought it a waste of time—to visit the man we called father even on his nameday. Yet, it was the one freedom I was allowed during my confinement. I knew naught why Seymour permitted me this, however I would not protest. He was not so thoughtless as to do this without some hidden purpose. Everything had meaning to it. Likewise so too did my want to decipher it.
Dressed in a gown Seymour had laid out for me with a slice of lemon chiffon cake on my lap, René rolled my chair along the long hallways until we reached the room at the farthest end. All the while, I heard horrible groans of pain and plead. The cries of the damned and dead. Though my mind was wrack with questions as to how the world fared—how my brother fared—I daren’t ask René. He was his faithful second. Any of my doubts would’ve been relayed to my brother in turn, and I would not risk him catching on again.
However, I still planned an escape. This dreadful place riddled with despair and isolation. The only way to survive was to beat him at his own game. To prove you are the better player.
Why then did he allow mother to go freely into the night whilst our father remained here shackled in the serpents curse? Ever at liberty to continue his foul studies…
Personal grudges were not like him.
He…did this for me, surely.
“My lady, we have arrived.” René voiced from behind as he let the handles of my wheelchair go and made to find his keys for the door my father laid past. Pulling the door open then, I smiled and nodded at him as I began to push myself inside the lit room.
“That will be all.” Dismissing him, I pressed onwards—my chair creaking over the floorboards as I looked around the larger than usual room. His lab had grown from my last visit, to the point where he had dismantled his unused bed to make space. It wasn’t as though the dead needed sleep, anyhow… And though his herb garden was kept tidy, its potent smell was quite unpleasant.
Father was perched over his desk mixing vials when I spotted him. Though the rest of the room was decently lit, he was in a dark corner with only a single dying candle. Said candle however, was only used to heat the burner on his chemistry set, not for light. He had been completely absorbed in his work, as expected.
At least he was here, I suppose. Unlike mother who was now gone forever.
Sitting alone, watching him, I began to cry. My tears quietly running down my cheeks as I tried to smile. The small freedom I had been given from my mundane life trapped in a tower had been quickly reduced to sadness. Realizing that, I understood why my brother didn’t deny me this tiny privilege. To wear down my resolve until nothing remained.
I would die as I lived. Like a bird in a cage, completely secreted away without hope of retreat. Locked in its cell for all eternity. But like the one who entrapped me, I still desired life beyond bars. A chance to live.
Looking down at the plate of cake in my hands, I shook my head. Not tonight. Though it was yet a tasty confectionery, it was laced with poison. I had no choice but to bring it with me—and when my father inevitably ate it, I’d watch him die again just as I watched him die every year. When would I be brought my final meal? It wasn’t as though I had the luxury of saying no even if I suspected it contaminated.
I tried to find a table short enough for me to set the cake down on after I pulled myself together.
I had every tool at my disposal in here. Though I did not know how to utilize any of it, if I took my time maybe I could figure something out. Before it was too late for me, I had to keep fighting. As was the vow I made to our father the day I lost my legs.
kaledo-art
areudirty
andulkaphoto
ellievsbear
turnnoffyourmind
jbbartram-illu
